so-called life in the subburbs

Anyone who knows me even a little bit probably knows how much time I spend whining about living in the boonies. Yes, we have a beautiful house, a nice back yard. The only thing missing really is the white picket fence. And yet I hate the fact that I have to buckle Leah into a car seat in order to go anywhere where I will actually see people, and always feel jealousy at people living in the city. And so it was quite exciting when last weekend, for the first time, Leah and I took a trip to Manhattan. My parents were invited to a family party on the upper West Side, and I concocted the following plan, which we successfully orchestrated: Leah and I met my parents an hour before the party, in order to walk around in Central Park, to be followed by all of us making our appearance at the party, and then going over to stay the night at my parents', and return home the following afternoon.

I was praying that Leah would sleep on the ride to the city, and that's why during the first 45 minutes of the drive, I was literally afraid to breathe. But of course she didn't. For about 45 minutes, she sucked on her paci and listened to her songs without making a sound. Then, when her pacifier fell out of her mouth she announced to me "Upalo!" (it fell). She then accepted calmly when I told her that that I cannot give it to her because I am driving, and spent the remainder of the drive "chatting" with me in a perfectly content manner. Not once did she whine or cry, or demand any kind of entertainment. She was an angel child! It was amazing really, considering that just recently, any car ride longer than 20 minutes was pure torture, and the child had to be entertained with a new toy or snack continuously in order to keep her from losing it. Please God let this phase last!!!

As soon as we parked by Central Park West, without even getting out of the car, Leah started screaming "hi" at the passers-by. Obviously, the kid was excited, since she never sees as many people in her home-town. She had a blast playing with her grandparents at the Central Park playground. Of course, the whole thing was utterly depressing for me, just reaffirming my feelings about how wonderful living in the city is, especially in the summer. Tons of people, tons of children, families eating Indian food on a park bench (which Leah started begging for immediately), gay men walking hand in hand, wheeling their toddler in a bugaboo, aaah Manhattan! There is no place like it. (Maybe when our kids to go College, and we no longer need to take advantage of the good suburban public schools, I can realize my dream of living in SOME city, it doesn't have to be New York City - that's the deal I made with my husband when we moved here). But I digress.

After running around with her "Deeda" (grandpa) in Central Park, we dropped in on a family party, where Leah got the chance to ride the elevator several times (which put her in total panic), meet her fourth cousin Izzy, eat numerous crackers and cured meats, and hit her head on a coffee table. Aaaah, the joys of bringing a toddler to a party. If you don't focus on an utterly sleepless night that followed, Leah's first trip to Manhattan was a success.













This week Leah turned 17 months old. I cannot believe that I no longer have a baby, but a toddler. It is mind-boggling. She is walking all over the house in circles, and screaming commands. She sings songs, she claps when she's excited, she screams out commands. This entire weekend she's been running after Vadim's parents dog, who is staying with us, screaming "Goggie, tuda!" (Doggie, go there!) She repeats everything! When I play "peekaboo" with her, and ask her "Where is Leah?", she knows how to answer "von ona!" ("there she is") in the cutest little voice. She heard Vadim say the words "I don't know" at one point, and can now say the expression clear as a bell.

Today she actually kissed me, and before she went to bed she kissed Vadim. If there is anything sweeter, I certainly have never experienced it.